


Misunderstandings

by Tainted_Grace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Knotting, M/M, Pack, Stiles, Telepath Stiles Stilinski, True Alpha Scott McCall, Werewolf, derek - Freeform, hale - Freeform, sterek, stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:16:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tainted_Grace/pseuds/Tainted_Grace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski keeps his head down most of the time. He's not a sub, and he's not shy; on the contrary, Stiles has a very boisterous personality, but he only ever shows that side of himself to his closest friends, his pack. One of his Alphas, Derek Hale, often used to wonder why the teen refused to look anyone in the eyes until he finally just asked the boy's other Alpha and best friend, Scott McCall. That's when Derek found out that the loud-mouthed smartass he's spent the majority of the past two years protecting and growing closer to is telepathic. Stiles isn't shy in the slightest, and he is such a power bottom that no one would dare call him a sub, he just doesn't want to go around reading everyone's minds so he avidly avoids making eye contact.</p><p>Derek makes sure that Stiles has one person he can look in the eye at the end of the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstandings

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic on AO3, but by far not my first fic period. Hopefully this isnt as bad as I fear it might be. Feedback is appreciated in the fullest! Thanks for the patience while I find my footing.
> 
> This is unBeta'd so sorry for any mistakes. Just point them out in the comments and I'll work on editing them at some point.

“Stiles is a _what?”_ Derek Hale, Beacon Hills’ resident brooding male-model-esque Alpha, blanched, eyes wide on the True Alpha standing before him.

“He’s a telepath. There’s not many people who know, and he doesn’t want a lot of people to know. If he doesn’t look you in the eyes, he can avoid reading you, so he just doesn’t look people in the eye most of the time. He used to get picked on for it a lot. I think that’s one of the reasons he’s as much of a smartass as he is.” Scott McCall, True Alpha and the complete opposite of the other werewolf, said with a short cough to mask the awkward tension that he could feel in the loft.

“He doesn’t look anyone in the eye? Ever?” Derek asked, realizing just how depressing and lonely that sounded.

“Not since his mom died. He used to look me and his parents in the eyes all the time because he trusted us and we never hid anything from him anyway, but after she died, his dad’s thoughts scared the shit out of him so he kept his head down and refused to look at anyone.” Scott shrugged, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

“That doesn’t seem fair to him. He has a gift, a talent, and he can’t use it.” Derek sighed, feeling bad for the male he thought was human an hour ago.

“Yeah, it isn’t, but that’s just the way things are. I don’t think it’ll ever change.” Scott had said, sounding agitated about the cards his best friend had been dealt.

\---

That was seven months ago. Now, Derek can get Stiles to look him in the eye almost every single day. I guess I should give you a little back story, huh?

A few days after Scott had told Derek that Stiles was a telepath, the Alpha had started working on a plan to cheer up his pack member. If there was one thing Derek couldn’t _stand_ it was a member of his and Scott’s pack being unhappy.

A month and a half after the Alphas’ conversation Derek asked Stiles to help him move the last of his things from the remains of his childhood home to the loft on the edge of town he finally decided to buy instead of just rent. Stiles, being none the wiser to the Alpha’s plan, agreed with barely any contest.

Stiles talked the entire drive to the property in the middle of the woods south of Beacon Hills, which was nothing new, but Derek had noticed over the past month and a half that the teen talked to fill the silence, which was probably his own defense mechanism so he didn’t accidentally read any of the people around him. When they pulled up to the house, Derek got out and Stiles followed him into the crumbling, half-downed remains of what used to be a beautiful Victorian style two-story house.

“So, Scott and Isaac had a mini food fight at lunch, which of course led to the entire cafeteria breaking out into an all-out war! It was chaos! Absolute, beautifu-” Stiles rambled, abruptly cutting off when Derek trapped him against the wall of the foyer with a forearm across his throat.

Derek remembers the tick in the side of Stiles’ throat that marked off his unsteady heartbeat like a metronome. He remembers the gulp that Stiles had let out, probably wondering if Derek was going to carry out his threat of ripping his throat out with his teeth. Derek remembers the confused look on Stiles’ face as he tried to figure out what Derek was doing without just pulling the answers straight from the wolf’s head. He also remembers the flutter of those overly-long, overly-thick, sinfully-dark lashes that twitched when Stiles would subconsciously flick his eyes up towards Derek’s before averting his gaze to anywhere else.

What Derek remembers the most from that day is the look of utter terror that took over the human’s face when he pushed Stiles’ jaw up and forced him to look at his Alpha. Being the stubborn kid that he is, Stiles had simply closed his eyes and got an intense look of concentration on his face when Derek had forced his chin up with his body still trapped against the wall.

“Der-?” He had managed to force out between pursed lips, eyebrows draw tightly together in the center of his forehead.

“Open your eyes.” Derek had ordered, voice far too soft for Stiles’ liking. Normally, Derek would be rough and threaten him with some form of bodily harm. He knew how to react to the attitude he got from the werewolf, but he had no _clue_ what he was supposed to do when Derek sounded like _that_.

“Bu-” He started to argue but Derek let out an agitated growl to let the telepath know he was serious. “Derek.” He nearly whined, trying to weasel his way out of opening his eyes to the wolf.

“I know, Stiles. I know what is about to happen when you look at me. I’m not hiding anything anymore. You deserve to know everything. You deserve to look people in the eye without feeling like you should be embarrassed or ashamed of yourself, Stiles. Just open your eyes.” Derek sounded like he was begging, which threw Stiles for a loop and caused him to open his eyes almost involuntarily.

He gasped at the sudden flow of information that assaulted his senses and made him go slightly light headed for a moment. Derek had a lot to think even though he wasn’t a man of many words.

 _How could anyone ever think you are anything but perfect? How could anyone ever_ think _of hurting you?_

_Whiskey, your eyes are liquid whiskey. How did I never notice?_

_I want to make you happy. I want to make you safe._

_If I get rejected I am so kicking Erica in the vagina. I feel like such an idiot. I should’ve just said something to you when Scott told me what you are._

_Why didn’t you ever see it? You see_ everything _…._

_You probably figured it out months ago and were too nice to say anything._

_I wonder what you’re thinking…_

_I could get lost in those damn eyes. They go on forever._

_You deserve so much more, Stiles, but I’m too selfish to keep this to myself anymore._

_What would you do if I kissed you right now?_

_Your heart is racing, what are you seeing?_

_God, I feel like such an idiot! This was so stupid…_

_I wonder if I could get drunk enough to forget that I did this….._

_I want to kiss you so bad. Would you let me?_

_I’m such a selfish ass. How are you even here right now?_

_Can I kiss you? Or are you going to punch me or push me away?_

_Which would you prefer Derek? For Stiles to let you kiss him, or for him to walk away before this happens and you can’t stop it?_

_Stupid inner voice being so damn reasonable._

_I wanna lick those moles straight up to your hairline and then tongue the hell out of you so bad._

_You have no idea how much I want to tell you right now. So much I never said… So much I should’ve said years ago…_

_Damn, I could cut myself on those cheekbones, Stiles!_

_Let me ruin you. Let me claim you and ravish you. Let me take you apart and put you back together again, piece by piece._

_Fuck it, I’m going to hell anyways, might as well enjoy the ride._

_If I lose contro-_

Stiles didn’t get to answer a single one of the spastic thoughts swimming around in Derek’s head because all of a sudden his eyes were closed and his head was blank of even his own thoughts. A second later he started to process the feel of a body pressing tightly against his own, though this form was infinitely more muscular and definitely taller than him. He could feel massive hands, no joke, those things were literally the size of bear paws, on his shoulders, pressing him into the wall while also pulling him flush against the body trapping him in front of the ash-dirtied wood. It wasn’t until a good five seconds later that he had been able to feel the hot press of lips again his own, paired with the rough drag and scratch of stubble against his face.

 _Derek- Derek Hale is…_ kissing _me?_

After that single thought had wormed its way into Stiles’ brain, nothing else really mattered. Nothing else was worth retaining or even taking in to begin with. So it had come as only a slight shock to his system when he gave up on all thought and began to kiss back. When the two finally pulled apart some time later it was so they could pant for the air they tried to deny themselves of to the point of lightheadedness.

“Derek…” He sighed in content, feeling happy for the first time in literal years when he rested his head on Derek’s massive shoulder to catch his breath.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna hit you.” The comment made the Alpha huff out a laugh and hug Stiles closer, feeling protective of and responsible for his human. “But I might randomly grab you and stare at you if you keep thinking like you just did.”

“Um… yeah, about that, what all did you see?” Derek was blushing when Stiles snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye. The sight was enough to make his own cheeks grow red with embarrassment. _Derek never blushes, ever. It just doesn’t happen._

He regained his cocky composure a second later when he remembered he had an opportunity to embarrass his Alpha and see more of that extremely rare cherry red blush. “Hm… there was a lot about my eyes. And about kissing me. And there was something about licking my moles followed by something about tonguing the hell out of me…” He mused with a cocky smirk, looking straight into Derek’s eyes again without hesitation, if only to see the embarrassment scored on his face in high flags of color and in his mind in the form of frustrated, jumpy, random thoughts that only made sense to the two of them. “Do you really think you can ruin me, Derek?” Stiles has whispered into the werewolf’s ear, his breath fanning over the skin there and causing goosebumps to appear in bunches. “Claim me? _Ravish_ me?”

“ _Oh god_ , I really have no self-control.” Derek had moaned in self-loathing, skin redder than a tomato.

“If this is you without self-control, please, by all means, have _no_ self-control.” Stiles encouraged, nipping at the shell of Derek’s ear hotly and pulling softly.

\---

That was over five months ago and now Stiles is way happier than Derek has ever seen him. He looks people in the eye without hesitation now, having worked on tuning them out with a lot of… _individualized_ help from his amazing boyfriend. He’s learned that it’s kind of hard to concentrate on homework or reading or anything really when he can clearly hear every _single_ thing that Derek wants to do to him. He has become so attuned to the Alpha that the two can be standing in two different rooms and Stiles can _still_ read his man like a book.

“Stiles, did you buy the razors when you went shopping yesterday?” Derek asks from the bathroom, searching everywhere for the shave cream and then the blades.

“Hm? Ah, no. I knew I forgot something.” Stiles says disinterestedly from over his book, a summer reading project for his freshman year in college.

“Right, you forgot. _Again_. Stiles, I know you like my stubble, _trust_ _me_ I know, but if I don’t shave at least every other day it’s gonna turn into a full out beard.” Derek reminds, walking into the room with only a damp white towel hanging loosely from his hips.

“You with a beard… That could be interesting. I’ll get ‘em when I go see Scott and Allison tomorrow.” Stiles winks, eyes unabashedly eye fucking the werewolf before him.

Derek has to dig his claws into his palm to avoid pouncing on the 18 year old sitting on _their_ couch in _their_ loft in _his_ clothes. The sweater looks ridiculously big on Stiles’ swimmer physique even though it looks ready to burst on Derek’s torso. The reminder of just how different they are while still being compatible is enough to make Derek groan and snap. He strides across the room and leans over his human, lips already stealing the air from the younger’s lungs and making them both moan like 15 year olds.

“Stiles, I swear to god you will be the death of me.” Derek promises, one hand drawing random patterns on the man’s hip and the other massaging his perfect ass.

“At least you’ll enjoy the ride, baby.” Stiles growls into Derek’s ear. “To all those thoughts rambling around in your head: yes. Yes to it all. To everything.”

Derek wastes no time in picking up the 120 pound male and tossing him down on their bed on the other side of the room. “Be careful what you promise, Stiles.” Derek growls in warning and a thought blazes across both of their minds straight from the brain of one Derek Hale.

 _Promise me shit like that and I’m gone. Promise me the world and I will completely_ destroy _you, Stiles. My self-control is only as strong as my will to resist you. In other words; I’m completely under your thumb._

“Derek, please!” Stiles yells, fingers yanking at the towel trapped between their grinding hips until he can pull it out of his way and give him access to the perfection of his boyfriend’s dick.

“Stiles, sl-slow down, babe.” Derek pants, feeling himself losing it.

“No. You promised to destroy me. Take responsibility and follow through. _Breed_ me, _claim_ me, _mark_ me up and make me _yours_ , all yours. Derek, _do it_. _Fuck_ me, _take_ me, make me lose my _mind_.” Stiles hisses hotly, knowing what he’s doing to Derek when he talks in that absolutely filthy, sex-drenched voice. He pauses for a second as if he’s contemplating something and then he goes from biting his bottom lip to nipping at Derek’s ears and making him shiver from his place between Stiles’ legs. “ _Knot_ me, Derek.”

That one sentence does more to Derek than he would like to admit.

His eyes roll into the back of his head and then he’s gripping at Stiles’ hips hotly, that one sentence playing on repeat in his brain and snapping his impressive self-control right in half. “Fuck, Stiles. The things you do to me are illegal.”

“Less talking, more fucking, yeah?” Stiles begs, sounding strung out and broken beneath the Alpha. Derek wants nothing more than to strip him bare and build him back up but he doesn’t have the patience right now _. Some other time,_ he promises himself, knowing that if Stiles has his way it’ll be in a few hours at most.

He strips Stiles out of the sweater and then his sweat pants, which Derek realizes also belong to him. No one says a word other than ‘fuck’, ‘holy shit, Der, more!’, or ‘shit, Stiles’, for a good solid hour. Derek starts out teasingly, trying to not just take, but also give as good as he gets. So, he pulls out the stops and does the one thing that Stiles would never expect him to. Derek slides down his boyfriend’s body like a snake, all lithe muscles and slick skin before kissing along the younger man’s hip bones and then licking a long strip up the underside of that beautiful dick hanging heavy and sensitive between Stiles’ legs.

Stiles positively yelps at the contact, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he tosses his head back against the sheets and arches off the bed. His hands fist tightly around the sheets and he cries out at every little swipe of Derek’s tongue against his body. “DEREK! FUCK! Please, I need you!” He screams, his hands yanking on the thick black hair covering Derek’s head. _When did those get there?_ He wonders idly in some small corner of his brain, having never felt this amount of pleasure before in his entire life.

Stiles doesn’t notice Derek fingering him open until the werewolf has _four_ of his fingers buried to the knuckle in his ass. When he does let the sensations creep into his sex-ravished brain he feels absolutely wrecked beneath Derek’s tongue and fingers. Stiles whimpers when Derek pulls his fingers out, only to scream in utter ecstasy when the Alpha’s entire hand, thumb included, are squeezing into his body with the help of the lube he hadn’t even realized Derek had gotten out.

“Holy shit! Are you-?” He asks, not able to finish the question through his panting breaths.

“Mm-hm.” Derek nods in concentration, having given up on his attempt at a blow job and instead focusing all of his efforts on working Stiles’ ass open for him.

“F-fuck, Der! I-I’m gonna-” Stiles warns and Derek yanks on the younger’s balls just hard enough to bring him off the edge.

Stiles writhes with even the slightest twitch of Derek’s fingers and his lover’s responsiveness makes Derek want to growl and lick him all over and mark up that pale freckled skin moving under him in sensuous waves. Stiles is fucking himself down on Derek’s fingers, pride and shyness absent in the safety of their bed, of their loft, of each other, and Derek is eating up every single moan and whimper and noise that exits those sinfully, deliciously red lips.

“Derek, please, I can’t-” Stiles begs, tears threatening to slip down his cheeks from the overwhelming feeling of _Derek_. Derek _everywhere_. Derek _inside_ of him. Derek _around_ him. Derek shielding him and taking care of him and loving him with his entire being.

Derek groans, his little bit of recovered self-control vanishing when his mate, because really, what else can he call it, is begging like that. He’s on his knees with one hand firmly on Stiles hip and the other guiding his cock into that fire-hot space that Derek is lucky enough to call his in seconds. He shudders and nearly explodes as he slides in with no resistance at all. “Holy fuck, Stiles. So good, so good for me.” He pants out, eyes locking with Stiles’ as they share their filthiest thoughts and come even closer than Derek being inside of him could ever bring them.

The first slide of Derek’s hips has Stiles screaming in pleasure and arching so far off the bed that his entire weight rests on his shoulders and Derek’s hips. Words are lost on the normally talkative male who is too lost to even form a single coherent thought that doesn’t contain _DerekDerekDerekDerekDerek_.

“Stiles, shit! Fucking hell, this is too much.” Derek groans, driving his dick into Stiles over and over with the force of a freight train. Stiles just rides out the thrusts, whimpering and begging every time Derek pulls out to shove back in to the base.

Stiles loses it when Derek twitches his hips into his body at just the right angle and slams into his prostate head on. That contact is enough to bring his orgasm into fruition, dumping him over the cliff and causing his entire body to spasm and twitch at how intense the feeling of coming undone is. It’s always like that with Derek, but never to this extent. The werewolf is always so controlled and carefully when he makes love to Stiles, but this is more than love, this is raw, this is dirty and gritty and shows everything they want to do to each other and more.

Stiles nearly sobs when Derek starts to pull out completely, stopping him with a loud “NO!” that shocks the older man into staying still. “Please, I need it. I need you, Derek. Don’t stop.”

The breathless, strung out sound of Stiles’ wrecked voice is enough to cause Derek’s hips to twitch forward of their own accord and then he’s positively fucking Stiles’ ass on his cock, hands gripping bruises into the telepath’s hips. He feels his cock swell even more and wants to stop, knows that this will hurt for Stiles, but he can’t bring himself to stop now, too lost in the sensations Stiles’ body is sending to his own. Before he can stop himself he is not just fucking Stiles on his dick, but he’s forcing his still swelling knot inside the man.

Despite having opened Stiles up with his entire fist, the knot still gets caught on the tight little ring of muscle he worked so hard to stretch out. When it finally pushes past the muscle Derek glances up at Stiles and sees tears working their way down his face in hot tracks. He knows then that he made a mistake. “Derek, don’t you fucking _dare!_ If you even _think_ that I didn’t know what I was getting into that you’re a fucking _idiot!_ I asked for this, I _begged_ for it! And the fact that I still have enough brain power to read your mind _and_ _talk_ is a sin! _Fuck me, Derek!”_

Derek complies immediately, driving his knot further into the tight little ass beneath him. The sounds Stiles’ is making should be illegal, Derek is sure of it. No one should sound as sexy and edible as that while getting a fucking knot the size of his boyfriend’s arm shoved up his ass to the point of pain. Derek is ready for it when Stiles’ cries turn from pleasure to pain, and he’s already there, smothering the younger with kisses and trying to wish the pain away. He has one hand pressed into Stiles’ hip, trying to leech away as much of the pain as he can, but he knows it has to still be hell to feel. Despite the pain he is pulling from Stiles’ body, the male is still as hard as diamond between them.

“Derek, please! I need you to-” Stiles whimpers and Derek can hear the pleasure in the back of his voice followed by a moan.

Derek’s massive fingers wrap around Stiles’ dick and start to push him over the edge again. He gets there just as Derek feels his own orgasm sneaking up on him and curling around his spine. “More. Derek, more! Come for me, baby.”

Stiles’ words are the final push that Derek needs, are always the last straw for him, and they he’s coming, hot seed shooting thick into Stiles’ ass and then the telepath is coming again, for the third time in under an hour, and Derek can see the exhaustion written on his face as he collapses into the pillows. Derek doesn’t move for a good twenty minutes or more, and when he twitches just a little bit he can feel that his legs are numb as are his arms.

Stiles looks into Derek’s eyes and can see the discomfort and pain that the man feels in his  body so Stiles, being the ever help, loving, caring, thoughtful boyfriend he is, pushes Derek into a full body roll so that he ends up on top, with Derek’s knot still in his ass and pressing directly on his over sensitized prostate. He lets out a half-hearted moan at the little jump his dick tries to give before curling into Derek’s chest with his head buried in the werewolf’s shoulder.

“H-How long does this-?” Stiles asks and Derek groans at the sensations that Stiles’ shifting gave him.

“Shouldn’t last too much longer, babe. Such a good boy for me.” Derek rumbles under Stiles’ ear and he beams proudly, happy that Derek’s self-loathing is being put on hold in favor of his pleasure and want for Stiles.

By the time the knot goes down Stiles is nearly asleep again, his breathing even and slow in Derek’s neck. He sits bolt upright though, when he feels Derek slip out of his body. His body doesn’t feel as sore as he expected, but he still feels ridiculously sore nonetheless.

“You alright, Stiles?” Derek asks when the younger slips off of his chest to curl up in his side instead.

“I’m great, Der. I’m yours, and no one can say anything else is true.” Stiles says, waves of content slipping from his body as he hums against Derek’s skin.

“This wasn’t just about me knotting you, was it?” Derek asks, realizing that just like everything else they’ve done, this was to bring them closer and reassert to the both of them that this is where they belong; with the other by their side and closer than any other person on the planet.

“Nn-hn. So much more…” Stiles shakes his head, burying his face further into Derek’s skin and falling asleep.

The admission causes Derek’s breath to hitch and his heart to race in his chest. He thinks about everything, their future, their past, their present, and everything in between before he realizes that he needs to just say it and get it off his chest. “I love you, Stiles Stilinski.”

If the smile against his neck is any indication, Stiles wasn’t as asleep as Derek previously thought.

**Author's Note:**

> On a scale from One to Gerard Argent how bad was it? God I hope its not that bad... More to come hopefully soon.
> 
> Btw, if someone would be willing to Beta my stuff on the somewhat random or rare occasion that I have a story to put up here, that would be awesome.


End file.
